


How To Make Friends and Take Over Townsville

by zucchinibagel



Category: Powerpuff Girls
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Comedy, Depression, Friendship, Multi, Political Campaigns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-04-17 15:07:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4671206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zucchinibagel/pseuds/zucchinibagel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set 20 years after the events of The PPG Rule!!!, Mojo returns to Townsville after a two decade long spirit quest to find his true self and ends up helping his greatest enemies. Curses! Meanwhile, the Powerpuff Girls face their greatest challenge yet: adulthood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Seek Advice!

**Author's Note:**

> I've been away from PPG fanfiction for a while now... well, okay, not exactly. I've been doing stuff like RPing and drabbles and little things like that. The one thing that always frustrated me about all of the PPG fanfics that I read/wrote, specifically the ones that I read concerning the dumb pairings that I liked, was that they didn't stay true to the funny nature of the show and stayed incredibly dramatic. The other thing was that the girls' superpowers/crimefighting/dreams and aspirations were always put on the backburner, and they never had any problems other than... boys. 
> 
> So here's the fanfic that I've always wanted to write. I hope I do a good job at it!
> 
> (By the way, I would really appreciate any crit that anybody has. Seriously. It's been like forever since I've actually really written something this big and I'm kinda rusty.)

Deep within the vast expanse of the Himalayan mountains lived one of the wisest of wise men, regarded as one of the sagest individuals in the entire world. Years of studying with learned elders of days past gave him a deeply profound insight into the workings of the human condition. Seekers of truth would travel for days– nay, weeks, or even months– to find him and acquire his bountiful knowledge in order that they live fuller, richer lives with a newfound perspective.

Many of his days were spent in quiet solitude, surrounded by the worldly goods brought to him by his many pupils over the years (humble gifts such as beads, incense, and lots and lots of pillows– he  _really_ liked getting pillows). The man would sit for hours on end, cross-legged in meditation, in his humble mountain home, the melody of the mountain birds and the bleating of the mountain goats that visited his dwelling a soothing source of music to his ears as he reflected upon life and its many intricacies.

Today was different though. As he sat in his familiar spot, a strange cacophony of grunts and swearing reached his ears and interrupted his familiar song, and he breathed in a breath of fresh mountain air.

Ah, yes. A visitor approached.

Serenely and patiently, he waited to see who this incredibly loquacious and foul-tempered guest of his would be. Without warning, a backpack flew up and landed with a dull fwump onto the rocky floor of his mountain home. One of his mountain goat friends gave it a taste test as it bit one of the straps. Finally, he saw a hairy hand grasping at the edge of the entrance. His visitor had reached his destination upon this incredibly high mountain, this insanely  _huge_  mountain, and was revealed to be…

…a man? Maybe? Was he a man? A monster, perhaps?

Whatever he was, he had now pulled himself up from the last rocky crag of the summit, collapsing on his back as he heaved heavy, belabored breaths.

The wise man shifted on his throne of comfortable pillows and regarding this strange visitor with bemusement.

"My, you are but a strange fellow," he commented, looking him up and down. He had to admit, somehow he looked… familiar.

"Yeah…" The stranger panted. "I… I get that a lot." He panted some more. "Usually it's… in the form of screaming…" He panted yet again, coughing a little as his breath caught up with him. "…but I have definitely been told more than once about how strange my appearance is. Yet for me… it is  _not_  strange but is how I've been for almost the entirety of my existence."

The stranger began to collect himself, rising from the ground as he dusted off his badly-colored Hawaiian shirt. He was just about to adjust his thick-rimmed eyeglasses when he noticed the goat that was about to eat his backpack, and began to wrestle it away, cursing some more in the process. The goat bleated in protest as it clung onto the delicious strap for dear life with his teeth, yet lost to the stranger as he pushed the animal's face away, slinging his pack over his shoulder and grunting at his minor victory.

"However, old man, I am not here for you to ogle at me as if I were some sort of spectacle… nor am I here to have my things  _eaten_ ," he sneered as he glared at the retreating goat, who bleated at him with an equally angry glare. "The reason I am here is to seek the answers to my questions. It is these answers which I seek. And they are what I wish for you to provide me at this very moment in the area which we are both occupying at this current time."

"What is it," the wise man asked, leaning forward curiously, "That others call you, stranger?"

"My name is not necessary for what it is that I wish to have answered."

The wise man nodded.

"Anonymity, hmm? It is not always the most helpful choice to make when one is seeking personal guidance. But I will respect your decision for now, and will help you however I can. Please. Sit." He gestured to the dirt floor in front of him. "Ask me what you wish and I will provide you with what you seek."

The stranger shuffled uncomfortably as he moved closer to the wise man, fidgeting with the straps of his backpack.

"Okay, uh, well… do I have to do anything special? Some of the shamans I've spoken to in the past required, uh, flexibility, that is, um…" He paused for a moment, wincing at what was probably a very painful memory. "I don't have to put my legs over my head or anything, do I?"

"Sit down. That is all I require of you, my son."

"Right, good. Phew! That is  _quite_  a relief."

The strange creature sat down, crossing his legs as he breathed out a long sigh, staring off to the side. It looked as though his mind had a lot to unpack after such a long journey.

"I suppose starting at the beginning will be the best way to begin to ask you what it is that I am asking," he began. "I am… a former evil villain. I'm sure you don't come across many people who were ever in that profession, do you? I was good at what I did, very good indeed. Possibly the best at what it was that I did, which was being incredibly villainous! I blew up cities, I stole whatever riches and valuables I could get my hands on, I destroyed the dreams of others… but it didn't quite fulfill me. At first I assumed it was due to the fact that my evil actions were constantly thwarted by three unmentionable nuisances, but soon it became apparent that my lack of fulfillment was coming from within my very self.

"Yes, causing chaos and mayhem was enjoyable… when I could get away with it, anyway," he continued as he twiddled his thumbs in his lap, "But… I secretly had a dream: a dream of making the world a better place. I knew that the task of world peace would be long and arduous. And I knew that I would have to climb over people and engage in 'hard work' to accomplish my goals. And, of course, I knew that in order to make the world a better place, I would have to… ugh… become  _good_."

He visibly shuddered, cringing in his spot at the mention of the horrible word. But a sudden realization swept over the wise man as he instantly remembered just how he'd recognized this creature.

"Waaaaait a minute." He wagged a finger at the stranger as he smiled. "You were the one who ruled the world and achieved global peace for a day many years ago, weren't you?"

The creature's jaw instantly fell.

"Wh- but… how did you…"

His brow instantly furrowed as he crossed his arms tightly against himself, pouting.

"It… it wasn't a day, it was… it was like a good  _two_  days…"

"It is quite an unforgettable tale: the ruler of the world who had become so bored with the peace that he had built," the wise man continued, "That he had thrown it all away because it was too much for him to handle."

"Well, hang on, I–"

"I speak about you to many who search for harmony but are not content with what they find. It is quite regrettable that it is only now that you have decided to seek me out, Mr. Ex-Ruler, for I may have–"

"Oh, please, you're not the first guy I've been to to try to sort all this stuff out!" Mr. Ex-Ruler snapped. "Ever since then I've been searching for answers to the very problem which has vexed me ever since that very day! For on that day I–"

"Ran away?"

"I didn't 'run away!' That makes me sound like… like I'm some sort of a coward or something!"

The wise man said nothing. The stranger grunted.

"I left the town which I had lived in to begin a worldwide hunt in order to seek out the solution to the oxymoron plaguing my existence. For how can someone desire to rule the world for peace if they are naturally inclined to cause chaos?"

"Seems to me," the wise man said, stroking his beard thoughtfully, "That you would attempt to curb this natural inclination of yours toward causing evil."

"And that is exactly what I attempted," he grumbled, sulking a little. "In my travels around the world, I began searching for any type of remedy that promised to balance the constantly quarreling good and evil natures of my existence, and to ease my… natural inclination towards destruction and chaos."

He held up his hand as he began counting off on his fingers.

"I sought out herbal homeopathic treatment in China and Mongolia. I stayed for three years in a Buddhist shrine in Japan… well, more than one shrine. Some of which are, ahem, now destroyed. Through unrelated incidences. I sought enlightenment in India, I searched for serenity in Bali, but it all ended in failure… as well as in multiple lawsuits and witch-hunts," he quickly added. "I concluded that natural remedies could not cure the conflict which innately plagued me so, and because of this, moved on to more scientific methods of therapy.

"I made visits–  _not_  break-ins, as the authorities led many to believe– to several research facilities in the hopes of further strengthening my already vast knowledge in an attempt to achieve enlightenment. As a result of my attempts to expand my already expansive brain," he said, pointing at the domed helmet that covered his head, "These self-induced laboratory tests also, well… you can plainly see what they increased."

He flexed a bicep, chucking proudly.

"Not only did they augment my intelligence, but they expanded my already enormous strength and musculature as well. And you can only  _imagine_  how this affected individuals of the female persuasion, which although unintended was certainly a welcomed–"

"Ah, yes. From what I remember from your story," the wise man interrupted, greatly amused at the stranger's unabashed pride, "You were a  _quite_  diminutive ruler."

The stranger's face fell along with his arm.

" _Maybe_  my improvements also included increasing my height," he grumbled, "But that was certainly not the primary purpose. Nonetheless, these physical improvements did nothing to improve my situation. I was still at a loss. My inclinations toward nefarious activity grew stronger, and I found myself committing petty crimes in an attempt to stave off any thirst I had for world domination. And I'm not even talking about  _petty_  crimes, here. I'm talkin'  _really_  petty crimes. Littering! Jaywalking! Tripping old ladies crossing the street! When I was at my lowest, globetrotting with no destination in mind, meandering through the streets of Paris, I felt such a strong inclination to begin concocting a plan to turn the Eiffel Tower into a gigantic ballistic missile that I forced myself to… graffito the Louvre instead! With a  _Sharpie_! Ugh, it just makes me  _sick_  to think I ever stooped so low!"

He groaned loudly, slapping his hands over his face in frustration.

"Even if my ultimate goal was to make the world a better place… how could I do that when all I wanted, all I continued to desire… was evil?"

The stranger sighed, laying his hands on his knees as he opened and shut them slowly, perhaps hoping he could catch the words he was now trying to look for.

"…I still don't feel… fulfillment. I feel as if something is missing. There  _must_  be something I have overlooked that could once and for all bring balance to my unbalanced existence. And for  _years_ I have been on the hunt for whatever it could possibly be. But what that is…"

Sighing, he hung his head in defeat.

"…I still don't know."

The wise old man nodded.

"Fulfillment is indeed what all individuals search for. I believe that it can be found in the easiest of ways. You say you are from a town, yet you have stayed far away from it, finding no solace in any other town or city that you have visited during your travels. Despite your shame, I suggest you return to where you started."

The stranger's head lifted as he cocked an eyebrow.

"Say what now?"

"You say that you left the town after you had tasted success and a very, very bitter taste of defeat. One of the ways one must search for something they consider to be lost is to return to where they believe they lost it."

The look on the stranger's face was one he'd seen many times. It was a revelatory stare, an expression that conveyed that the wise man had just said something they had never considered before. Familiar pride swelled inside of the wise man as he smiled, awaiting the stranger's response.

"…so you're telling me," the stranger slowly began, studying the face of the wise man intently, "That I have spent two entire decades of my life attempting to find a solution to my problems, that I have circled the entire globe, enduring painful trial after excruciating tribulation, that I climbed up this god forsaken mountain in searing hot summer weather in a last ditch effort to figure out the solution to my problems, that I almost just had my only possessions eaten  _by a stupid goat_ … all of this for you, the wisest man I could possibly find, to tell me… to just go  _home_?"

"I have dispensed my wisdom." The wise man held out a hand towards where the stranger had arrived. "Go forth and act upon it, my son."

"Oh."

The stranger stood up, rolling the short sleeves of his gaudy shirt as he growled and advanced upon the wise man.

"…oh, I'll act upon it, alright, you two-timin'  _hack_!"

Accounts of what exactly happened on that day vary. Locals reported that they had seen one of the wisest of wise men launch from the summit of his mountain home and glide along the winds of the Himalayas, finally achieving spiritual tandem with the natural world (although, due to his inexperience with flight, his landing was unfortunately rather rocky). Others reported that a large beast with terrible fashion sense had been spotted running down the mountain with armfuls of beads and pillows, followed by droves of angry mountain goats nipping at his heels. The wise man himself said the following words to the police as he was wheeled out of a hospital in Nepal, wrapped head to toe in bandages and plaster:

"If only I had persuaded the stranger to tell me his name… then maybe you could've  _arrested_  his ass!"


	2. Part I - Reconnect With Old Friends!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this section, Mojo returns to Townsville after 20 years, finds out a terrible thing, yells at teenagers, and talks to a whole cast of jerks! His life is horrible!

The city of Townsville hadn’t changed a single. Dang. Bit.

Well… well, okay, it’d  _kinda_  changed. There were definitely noticeable differences, but only noticeable if you squinted a whole lot and if you possessed a keen photographic memory. And Mojo Jojo was in possession of such a photographic memory, more or less. At least he liked to  _think_  that he had one. A brain as big as his simply had to have the room to store one, right?

After he’d recovered from his angry episode with that jerk from the mountains (and after cashing in all of the loot he’d stolen from the guy’s stupid mountain home… surprisingly, some of those pillows had been worth more than a few rupees), and despite this perfect memory of his, telling him over and over again that a town like Townsville would certainly  _never_  accept him back… well, what the hey. What else was he to do? He was tired of wandering from place to place without finding a suitable solution to his problems. Returning to Townsville seemed like as good a decision as any, mainly because all of his other options seemed equally terrible in comparison.

The bus he was riding from the airport rolled bumpily down the road,  _very_  bumpily since Mojo had been forced to sit in the last seat in the back. It hadn’t been surprising when all the available seats next to people once he’d boarded suddenly became occupied with various pieces of their luggage, but at least he had two seats and a window all to himself. He considered this a win despite the rough ride.

As he gazed out the window, he noticed how the suburbs had certainly expanded. Sections of Farmsville had been bulldozed clean of barns and stables, and were now fully developed with tiny, identical cottages gathered in subdivisions and peppering the hills and valleys on each side of the road. Strip malls and gas stations were interspersed between them, hustling and bustling with activity from cheerful Townies going about their cheerful little lives. It was an incredibly cheerful sight, which in Mojo’s mind was incredibly stupid and sickening and just… ugh,  _disgusting_.

The bus rolled into the city, and he noticed the few new buildings that’d sprouted along the Townsville skyline. His cheek hurt from having it propped up on his hand for such a long trip as he stared in boredom out the window, detecting small details like a trendy Malph’s where a department store had once been, or a new apartment complex where some old historic buildings had been. Typical. It was so like the city to just demolish anything that was old. Then again, Townsville was a city that was almost _always_  under construction due to all of it’s  _de_ struction.

A sinking feeling that hadn’t been in his stomach for years suddenly appeared as his face lifted from his hand, his mind beginning to consider the fact that’d just passed through it. Hopefully nothing had happened to his observatory while he’d been away. Boy, if any of those rotten monsters from Monster Island had  _dared_  to touch his volcano while he’d been gone, he was going to totally obliterate them from the face of the Earth.

The bus stopped on the corner of 5th and Main, just outside of the city park. Well, this was it. Mojo squeezed his way out of his seat(s), eliciting a few “hey!”’s and “watch it!”’s from his fellow passengers as he bumped into them along the way to the front. Seriously, what did they expect when they’d forced him to sit all the way in the back? He was a lot larger now than when he’d left the city, and common buses just didn’t accommodate chemically created uncommon simian manlike creature guys.

Finally, after struggling out of the bus’s tiny door, he retrieved his luggage from the bus attendant (who, amazingly to Mojo, was the first person he’d come across in years who didn’t stare at him)…

…and gazed up at his home.

And started to cough violently as the smoggy kickback from the now departing bus breezed right into his slack jawed mouth. Yuck! He was starting to remember just how much he disliked this city.

But as soon as his lungs recovered, he stared back up at the observatory.  _His_  observatory. His beautiful, well guarded, super secret observatory that barely anyone else knew about (despite it being in the middle of the largest park in the city). The observatory where he had developed his grandest, most amazing plans for global conquest (despite most, if not all, of them failing on him at the last minute). The metallic structure glittered in the sunlight, gleaming like a shiny diamond amidst a whole crudload of coal. His heart swelled with pride, relieved to see it still intact, in one piece, completely whole. Seeing as he was suddenly in the mood for sappy metaphors, he imagined it to be like a lighthouse: the destined lighthouse of his life, the place that he could be beckoned back to and call home, despite it existing in the worst and stupidest city in the entire dumb universe.

He adjusted his glasses as he crossed the street, making his way up the volcanic carved out staircase, and finally tried to open the lock of the front door.

…and tried again.

And again.

Ugh, curses! He jimmied the door handle, grumbling and muttering under his breath. Why hadn’t he locked the door with something more substantial like a numerical combination or DNA detection? Why the heck had he gotten  _keys_  made?! Someone must have changed the lock while he’d been away. The nerve! Who would’ve done a thing like that?! Did they even realize who’s door it was that they’d messed with?

Wait a minute. What was he even thinking? He was a criminal, for crying out loud! A criminal should be able to break into any place at any time, even their own home.  _Duh_. Geez, why hadn’t he thought of that the moment he couldn’t open the dang door?

Whatever, he shrugged. He was just rusty, that’s all. He couldn’t beat himself up over not  _instantly_ thinking about breaking and entering.

With a few well-placed kicks to the lock, the door finally burst open and sunlight immediately pooled across the dust-caked floor. Mojo wrinkled his nose at the sight. He was going to have to do some well-needed spring cleaning to the place.

Although… something was off about the floor, but for the life of him he couldn’t make out what. He tried turning on the lights, flicking the lightswitch near the entrance, but nothing happened. Double curses! Of _course_  the lights wouldn’t work. He hadn’t been in Townsville to threaten the electric company to provide his observatory with power.

But despite the fact that the lights weren’t coming on, he could make out something moving far away in the depths of the observatory. The faintest sound of laughter began to reach his ears as he slowly made his way through the darkness.

He cautiously placed his luggage next to the door and began to creep slowly into the threshold. A light began to emerge from the pitch blackness as shadowy figures moved about. Fear seized him as he paused. Could… could the observatory have become  _haunted?_  What other explanation could there be for what he was seeing? But that was stupid: ghosts didn’t even exist, right? They were primitive human legend, not an actual logical thing that could actually ever happen. Wisps of smoke began to appear in the air, floating past him as he continued to move forward.

And he confirmed that, no, he  _wasn’t_  seeing ghosts. Ghosts didn’t wear plaid or have dreadlocks, as far as he knew.

But what he  _did_  know is that he was  _not_  going to tolerate the fact that four teenage hoodlums were sitting around an electric lantern in the middle of his observatory, smoking something that was _clearly_ not tobacco-based.

“The heck are you punks doing in  _my_  observatory?!”

The teens shrieked as they scrambled away from him, albeit for one who kept sitting where he was, a goofy grin forming on his stupid face.

“Awh, shit, bro,” the teen he’d noticed with dreadlocks spluttered, “You said Old Man Mojo was dead!”

“Shit, we’re sorry dude!” another nervously apologized. “It’s cool!”

The grinning teen began to laugh hysterically as he held his stomach, pointing down at Mojo’s feet.

“Holy crap, dude, look at what he’s wearing!”

“Shut up Devlin!” the dreadlocked teen hissed.

“But he’s wearing sandals! With  _socks_! Nice outfit grandpa!”

… _what_  did that little punk just say?!

“ _Grandpa?!”_

Mojo’s fists clenched with fury, and his fur bristled with rage as he advanced upon the teens.

“Oh, you rotten teenagers and your sassy mouths, not to mention your third rate criminal activity! The insidious lair of the insidious Mojo Jojo is a place to instigate insidiousness and reign high above others, not a place for  _getting_  high! Get out of my observatory _or face ULTIMATE CONSEQUENCES!”_

The teens shrieked again as they scrambled to grab their things, running out of the door as Mojo chased after them. He stood poised in the doorframe as he watched them bound down the staircase in terror. Hmm. Well. That’d been interesting. He dusted off his hands and smiled to himself, not only because the kid who’d made fun of his sandals had tripped and was now tumbling down the stairs in a rather painful manner, but also because his evil rustiness was proving to be wearing off big time.

Oh yeah. He still had it.

Although now, he thought to himself as he turned around, he’d have to deal with the mess they’d made, not to mention the stench they’d left.  _Ugh._ It was going to take months to get rid of the lingering pot smell. Maybe he’d just throw everything out and steal new furnitu–

Wait,  _where was his furniture?!_

He’d been so mad at the now retreating teens that he hadn’t even noticed that everything from his living room was gone! Tarps were laid out, more dust coated the floor (save for the traces of the tracks from the offending teens… ah, tracks,  _that_  must’ve been what he’d seen back at the entrance)… the only furniture that remained were a couple of metal folding chairs and a table made from a plank of wood and some cinder blocks, singed from what was probably more than a decade’s worth of idiotic teenagers using the interior of his house as their personal drug den.

He hollered in frustration so loud that the entire volcano shook beneath his feet.

“Where are all of my gadgets?! All of my machines! All of my projects! All of my pla– ugh, this is the _lousiest_  predicament that I could have come across.”

He slumped his shoulders and sighed, resting on a folding chair. Coming back really hadn’t been a good idea, had it?

Well  _now_  what was he going to do? With all of his stuff gone, how was he to modify his plans for taking over Townsville? He was  _not_  in the mood for starting from scratch. Besides, not only was he missing all of his taking over the world junk… he was missing priceless personal mementos, too!

He glanced and noticed something he’d missed: the telephone, still plugged into the wall. Next to it rested his old answering machine, complete with the tape cassette he’d left in it the day he’d lef– oh, of _course_. He popped open the mechanism and grumbled. No tape. Maybe someone had left it around here somewhere…

Hmm. Maybe a call to some of his peers would solve this mystery.

He picked up the receiver and heard a dial tone. Well, at least the  _phone_  worked. Pressing one of the speed dial buttons, he wound the cord on his finger as he hummed a waiting tune and inspected the label he’d printed next to the button.

The Party Line. It was the nickname for the calling list that Townsville’s villains would only ever use in a crisis. There’d be several occasions where, in a last ditch effort to destroy the Powerpuff Girls once and for all, every high-ranking bad guy and girl in town had joined forces in order to stamp them out. Mojo figured it wouldn’t hurt in a situation like  _this_  to enlist the aid of his fellow do-no-gooders. Even if he  _was_ planning on doing only good things to the city this time, he had a reputation for being one of the  _evilest_ of evils the city had ever known, and they would  _have_  to help him out of respect for his legacy. And anyway… this  _was_  kind of a crisis. Of sorts. Right?

Wasn’t it?

Several clicks clicked in succession as several voices answered.

“ _WHAT!?_ ”

“The heck do you want?”

“Yello?”

“‘Sup?”

“Ahem. Hey, what’s up, everyone?” Mojo grinned, inspecting his fingernails as he affected a casual tone, as if he  _hadn’t_  been away for a good two decades. “Remember me? This guy? The guy who’s been away from Townsville for, like, forever? You guys miss the  _greatest_  villain to have ever graced this city with his evil presence and commanding prowess?”

“…who the heck  _is_  this?”

“WHATCHA DONE DARN CALLED M’PHONE FER?”

“Yeah, buddy, you better have a good explanation for callin’ up the  _real_  greatest villains this side of–”

“ _Can_  it, Amoeba Boys. Why’re you even  _on_  the phone?”

“Ugh.” They were all as sharp as ever, he sarcastically thought to himself. This was going to be difficult. “This is  _Mojo Jojo_ , you imbeciles!”

“Major who what?”

“Oh, my god, ew,” said the unmistakably bratty voice of Princess. “I thought you were, like, dead or something.”

“Why  _aren’t_  you dead?” the sultry voice of Sedusa inquired, as sultry-like as one could even be when inquiring about why someone hadn’t expired yet.

This certainly wasn’t the kind of welcome he had expected. He made a sour face and groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in annoyance.

“Listen, you idiots, I’ve returned to the city and have finally arrived back at my observatory which I am calling you all from, yet it appears that everything  _other_  than my telephone has been taken from my place of residence. I must know where all of my personal belongings have gone and wanted to know if any of you blockheads knew where they have been taken… or more likely, which one of  _you_  took them!”

“Hah! You got  _robbed_?!”

“I didn’t get robbed!” he shouted into the phone. “I just… “ He took in a deep breath and closed his eyes, starting over. “I would never allow myself to be robbed, but it just so  _happens_  that all of my belongings are in another location which I currently do not know the whereabouts of, and I need to know _where_  those whereabouts are.”

“Awwww, it’s like he thinks we’d  _care_ ,” Ace snickered.

“Even if we  _knew_  what happened to your stuff, dummy,” Princess scoffed. "None of us are even  _in_  the crime business anymore. Being a villain in this town’s a thing of the past. Nice job keeping up with the times.”

They were  _done_  with villainy?! Wait. But… how?! Why?! What in the world were they talking about?

“This is the first I’m hearing about this!” he said, pulling over one of the metal chairs. This revelation was making him a little weak in the knees.

“Turns out it was  _much_  more trouble than it was worth,” she continued. “After  _you_  left, those stupid Powerpuff Girls got the  _stupid_  United Nations to get that  _stupid_  Key to the World locked away for good. It didn’t even matter how much money I tried throwing at those clowns; they wouldn’t do  _anything_  to give it back.”

“An’ every time we  _tried_ to get that dumb key,” Ace interrupted, “Or tried to do anythin’, really… all of us ended up getting our behinds kicked. Seemed like we weren’t gettin’ nowhere, so we all agreed that tryin’ to be all evil all the time just wasn’t worth it. Simply put, we’re retired.”

“Wh- you cowards!”

“Hey hey hey, don’t be callin’ us no cowards!  _You’re_  the chump callin’ us after bein’ gone for like… well, who’s countin’? You skipped out a long time ago, pal. Things just weren’t goin’ in our favor, alright?”

“It didn’t help none either when all those dang monsters kept comin’ on over here from Monster Isle an’ started to scoot in on our property!” Fuzzy Lumpkins shouted, so loud that Mojo had to pull the phone away from his ear for a moment. “They came over here an’ crushed m’entire shack! Every last inch of the darn thing! I had to rebuild the whole thing from scratch! An’ I ain’t been the same without Joe, but at least Joe Two’s a comfort durin’ those lonely winter nights.”

 _Too_  much information, Mojo thought as he mentally cringed.

“Yeah, what the pink guy said. Even our swanky clubhouse down by the dump? Smashed to pieces. Buncha jerks. We had to move to the freakin’  _tire yard_ ,” Ace grumbled. “Plus those girls even managed to get the  _monsters_  to stop destroyin’ Townsville all the time. Nowadays, we get like… what, two of those big nimrods comin’ over here every year? ’Sides, you think we’d wanna keep dancin’ toe to toe with those freaky chicks?  _No_  thanks, mister. You get enough black eyes in your life an’ start wonderin’ why you even go through the trouble.”

“Ugh. Which reminds me of the trouble  _I’m_ in,” Princess groaned. “I shouldn’t even be on the  _phone_ with you plebians. In fact, you interrupted my call to Tel-Aviv. We were discussing plans for my new  _waterpark_!”

This was  _way_  too weird to be true. Seriously? All of them, completely retired from any type of crime? In the back of his mind, this was probably a good thing: once he got started trying to take over again (in his new, more humane way), there’d be no competition for anyone trying to fight him for dominance. But still… it didn’t make him any less suspicious.

‘Wh– I can _not_  believe this! I cannot believe  _any_  of this!“

“Face it,  _loser_ ,” Princess’s nasally voice mocked, “You’re just too late to the party. Sucks to be you, but the fact is that you just got back to Townsville after  _it_  got through being Villain Central. If you wanna go hit up a bank or steal your precious Anubis head from the museum or something, go right ahead. We’re through with that small stuff.”

“Yeah,” Ace’s voice snickered. “Hey, maybe you should go fetch your stupid dog head! Maybe turn some people into  _dogs!_ ”

“Oh my god, he  _would_  do that, wouldn’t he?!” Sedusa cackled loudly. “What a  _freak!_ ”

Mojo growled as the cacophony of laughter built louder and louder and slammed the receiver down. Hmph. Well they certainly were of no help, and he was nowhere closer to finding out where all of his things had gone. Perfect.

But who would have ever thought? Townsville without villains? Had everyone else  _really_  become as disenchanted with villainy as he had? There were all still a bunch of jerks, true, and none of them had seemed to have begun fighting for any  _good_  causes. Unfortunately for him, he still had an innate desire to cause mayhem, but for these individuals to still live in the city and  _not_  be tempted to destroy it… that was just  _ludicrous_ , was it not?

More importantly, though… what did that mean when it came to the Powerpuff Girls? Had they become any stronger? What in the world could they have  _done_  to turn off his fellow villainkind from crime? A few mere beatings couldn’t have been enough to deter them. It just didn’t add up.

Well, whatever. He was through with those jerks. Mojo sighed and rested his head on his hands, hunched over on the metal chair in thought. Seemed like there was only one other place to find out where he could find out where his things had gone, and it wasn’t going to be easy.

It was only going to be  _the_  most painfully boring experience of his life.


	3. Part II - Seek Government Assistance!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this section, Mojo Jojo waits! And waits! And waits some more! And meets a girl! And they reminisce! It’s all good fun and no one is sad, I promise!

“Have you already spoken with someone from the Office of Citizen Affairs?”

“Yes, I have already been at that office  _twice_  today.”

“And have you had a word with the Assistant to the Chief of Townsville Citizen Security?”

“ _Yes_ , and it took me two hours to even get the chance to  _speak_  with that individual, but now that I have, I–”

“And have you filled out form 45-F along with complying with all of the forms of identification listed on form A-31?”

“Oh, for cryin’ out loud!”

Mojo slammed his fists on the desk in front of him as the clerk on the opposite side jumped in surprise. He  _knew_  it, seriously, he  _knew_  this would be an exasperating process!

He’d been waiting in line for an hour and a half at City Hall after waiting in  _another_  line at City Hall for two hours in order to finally get a chance to speak with this woman, who he’d been initially directed to see by the man who he had been directed to see by a totally different woman a half an hour prior. All of them had said essentially the same thing: “As a registered, formerly missing villain of Townsville, your personal effects have been relinquished by the government, and you will have to fill out a billion dumb forms and go through a ton of stupid queues in order to have it all returned to you.”

…okay, so he’d paraphrased, but basically that’s what they’d said.

It’d been bad enough to have to call the police to find out this information, only to be directed through this mess of paperwork and waiting… how embarrassing to have to be seen like this, a former villain now kowtowing to the  _man_. And he’d even worn the spare tunic and cape outfit he’d kept with him in his suitcase all these years,  _just_  so they’d recognize him as a VIP and give him proper service. But no one even remembered who he was! Ridiculous! If he had to wait another minute to have to talk to  _anyone_ else, he didn’t know what he was going to do. Probably spontaneously combust.

“I have  _every_  single form of identification that I have had on my person!” he growled, attempting to stay as calm as he possibly could without resorting to grabbing the desk she was sitting in and chucking it out of a window. “I have been  _trying_  to tell you that every  _other_ form of identification has been taken by city government! I am  _here_  because I am trying to get all of my belongings  _back_  from the city! How is this not getting through your dense–”

“You’re trying to pick up detained items?” she asked.

He stared at her, eyes wide in surprise at her idiotic question. Had… had she  _really_  not been listening to him this entire time?!

“… _yes!_ ”

“Then you’re in the wrong line,” she cheerfully replied, and pointed behind him. “Room 145B. Go ask for Dolores and she’ll set you up for what you need to do.”

Thoughts of throwing  _her_  through a window momentarily appeared in his mind before he forced them away.

“What I  _really_  need to do is level this entire building to the ground…” he grumbled to himself as he headed towards where she had pointed.

This was the worst, having someone the likes of him jump through these bureaucratic hoops just to get his own  _bed_ back. But he’d told himself, he’d  _warned_  himself that this was going to be a boring process. He  _knew_  he’d have to go through all of this rigamarole. It was so incredibly unfair, but… well, he knew that it was the last possible way he could  _legally_  find out where all of his things had disappeared to. The old Mojo would’ve beaten people up in his rage or who would’ve started screaming and throwing a tantrum,  _demanding_  that his personal effects be relinquished to him. But the  _new_  Mojo… he just had to suck it up. This being good business was seriously  _hard_.

Surprisingly, the room he’d been directed to was completely empty. Aside from a bespectacled lady with an unbelievably large beehive hairdo at a desk piled high with computers and gadgets and paperwork, no line was to be found. Huh. Well this was new, he thought to himself as he walked over and sat himself down in front of the woman’s desk. Maybe this’d be the end of his annoying quest and he could begin bringing his belongings back into his home.

He wasn’t going to get his hopes up, though.

“Name?” she asked without looking up.

“It is unfortunate that you and the rest of the idiots that work in this building do not automatically know the answer to that question.”

She rose her head up and glared at him.

“You wanna be automatically kicked out on your rear end, pal?”

“Ugh.  _No_.” He grumbled and gave her his name, and endured what seemed to be hours of listening to what could only be described as Chinese Keyboard Torture. His cheek twitched with every obnoxiously loud keystroke she made, her overly long fingernails clacking along in unison. Fingernails on a chalkboard were bad enough; he’d prefer listening to that over this.

“Ohhhhhhhh, you’re  _that_  Mojo Jojo!” she finally exclaimed, letting out a laugh more fitting for a mule. “You’re on a special list, honey.”

“Great, spectacular, I’m thrilled,” he said through the hand now covering his exasperated expression. “So where does this special list say that I have to go to  _now_ after being led through every single door that was built in this god-forsaken place?”

“Hang on, hun, lemme take a look-see here.” She typed a few characters on her keyboard and peered over her glasses, smacking at and cracking her gum. Mojo cringed. Why was it that people in this city lacked basic manners? Did then never hear of chewing gum properly? Did they realize that chewing gum in their city hall while acting as a civil servant was not representing their city in a particularly good light?

“Okaaaaaay,” she said after a beat, drawing the word out as she sat back in her chair. “You’re on our Missing Upper-Level Villains list. Wow, looks like you’re the only one on here. I’ll move you to ‘active’ status, but you gotta report to the higher-ups to get your toys or whatever it is you wanted.”

“Yes. Okay. Tell me where I need to go in order to retrieve them.’” He hoped he didn’t have to endure her much longer. What a condescending  _nightmare._

“Go up the front staircase, take a left up the other staircase, make another left, then a right, THEN past the double doors, slight right through the fork in the hallway, past five offices on your left and then you’ll see the Assistant to the Mayor’s Assistant’s desk on the right, just before you’d have to turn to get to the Mayor’s Assistant’s office, and smile honey.”

“What?”

There was a blinding flash as a camera next to the woman was fired. Dots rose in front of his eyes as he tried in vain to rub them away. He heard a whirring noise and finally a tear as the woman held out a piece of sturdy paper with a clip attached to it.

“Here’s your visitor’s badge. Just go up there and tell the young lady what you need and she’ll help you out thanks have a good day.” The woman turned back to her computer, clacking away as she signaled that she was done with him.

Well, thank  _goodness_.

Mojo grumbled as he affixed the badge to the front of his tunic (as well as grumbling at the dumb look on his face she’d captured), shuffled out of the office and back into the main hallway. He hadn’t been paying much attention to where the horrible woman had told him to go, because he already knew exactly where she’d been talking about: the Mayor’s office. Well, not exactly  _to_  the Mayor’s office, but in that general direction anyway.

It was so funny how there were certain things that you could almost instantly remember about a place, no matter how long you’d been away from it. As he walked the familiar route, he couldn’t help but wistfully remember the amount of times he’d barged in on the building, demanding to speak to the man in charge while holding people at gunpoint (he’d even gotten to know some of the staffers by name, and they were pretty easygoing about the whole thing after he’d done it the first time around), subsequently attempting to take over his position so he could rule over Townsville… but of course, he’d always been stopped before he could actually do much of anything.

Although, he realized as he made it past the fork in the hallway, just who was the Mayor nowadays? It’d been 20 years since his last visit to City Hall. The odds of the Mayor still holding on to his position were pretty slim, weren’t they? The guy was probably in a hole in the ground by now.

He passed the fifth office and turned right, just as he had during his glory days of impeding upon others, only to find… an empty desk. Great. Just what he needed: more waiting! His cheek twitched. His hand instinctively grasped for a laser gun which just wasn’t there.

The desk was only empty of a person though. In all other respects it was a veritable pigsty, cluttered to the brim with stacks of papers, folders, binders… a plethora of Post-It notes covered the sides of a computer monitor. A garbage can shoved unceremoniously under the desk was overflowing with crumpled up papers. Affixed to the wall was a corkboard, hung askew on the wall… well, maybe it hadn’t been placed that way, but the weight of the multitude of forms and reminders and individually color-coded calendars pinned to it had made it shift a good 45 degrees.

He groaned. This person was probably so scatterbrained that it’d take twenty  _more_  years for him to get anything back.  _Great._

One of the double doors next to the desk opened up, and he could hear someone on the other side chattering.

“–side note, we can’t do a benefit without a… yeah, I know, okay, I’ll check on that. And did we need five thousand campaign buttons or five  _million_ – oh. Okay. Okay, I’ve got it. And I’ll get these forms to where they need to be right away before our 1 o'clock. Great. Okay.”

A short, pale girl rushed out, closing the door behind her as she frantically hurried towards the desk. Her hair was messy, done up in a bun with what appeared to be not one, but  _two_ ballpoint pens, and while she was dressed smartly in a nicely ironed outfit, her overall posture screamed “nervous wreck” as she searched the pile for a fresh portfolio, throwing the papers she held in it and clasping it shut. She pulled a strand of red hair behind her ear as she surveyed the desktop frantically.

“Excuse me, girl–”

She held up a finger towards him to interrupt, not even bothering to look at his face as she continued scanning.

“Sorry sir, don’t mean to be rude, but I just– a HA!”

She threw open one of the desk drawers and fished out a badge. Clipping it on the front of her dress, she smoothed out her skirt and let out a sigh.

“Found it! Okay, now what can I–”

She barely had any color in her skin to begin with, but the moment she brought her head up to look at him, whatever color she  _did_  have disappeared in an instant. Her lips pursed as she sharply took in a breath and backed up, clutching onto her desk as Mojo sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Yes, yes, I know, I am more than aware that I am not exactly the type of individual you were expecting to see when you turned around, but–”

Mojo stopped. He squinted a little bit at her expression. Usually when people backed away from him, it meant that they hadn’t been expecting to see a six foot tall mutated monster. But as he stared into her eyes– her already rather large eyes, in fact– he was surprised to see that they’d widened not out of fear, but out of keen alertness as they scrutinized his every minute move.

He was also surprised to see that they were pink.

…

Wait.

_Pink?!_

“ **You!** “

The word came out of their mouths simultaneously, and he braced himself for a fight that he was _positive_  was about to start. Triple curses! He should’ve known he’d have to deal with one of her ilk sooner or later!

 _Blossom_. Leader of the Powerpuff Girls, his worst enemies, three of the reasons why he even left town in the first place. She was the  _worst_  possible person to run into, at this, the  _worst_  possible time. Oh, how he  **hated**  her! Every inch of his body suddenly jolted with a seething hatred he hadn’t felt for… well, for twenty years, to be exact.

All in an instant every single thing he despised about her began to reappear in his memory. Such a conceited, pompous, pretentious individual she was. So overwhelmingly full of herself, so stubborn, so shamelessly sanctimonious! Always so hell bent on stopping him in his tracks no matter the reason! Always so preoccupied with truth and justice and the Townsvillian way! Mojo  _certainly_  wished to achieve global peace, that much was true, but he totally wasn’t as preachy about it as she was. It was like she thought she was not only the leader of the Powerpuff Girls, but the leader of everything in the world that was good! No one could  _own_  goodness, and here she was, claiming herself to be a bastion of righteousness when all she really was was thoroughly annoying.

And ooh, that smarmy little self-righteous snob, here she was, poised as he was, probably waiting for him to make the first move. Well, he wasn’t going to do anything! He was just going to stay standing until  _she_  decided to say something, and he was  _sure_  that whatever that something was, it would probably be something incredibly haughty and smarmy and–

"What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“What are  _you_  doing here?!” he demanded right back. “And looking so  _normal_  with… fingers and a nose and… and  _ears_ , even! I would have never guessed it was you had it not been for those weirdly colored eyes of yours. Just what in the world has happened to you?“

"I could just as very well same the same thing to you!” she replied as she continued staring up at him.

“Well then why don’t you?”

“…I will!” She wrinkled her nose as she looked him up and down. “How come you’re so… tall?“

” _That’s_  what you want to know!? Why I’m  _tall_?! Ugh! It’s a side effect of years of genetic experimentation with– no, nevermind!” He straightened himself up, attempting to come off more confident as he stared down at her. “I am not here to explain the process which I underwent in order to reach the heights which I have reached. What are you doing here and  _why_  was I sent here to the leader of the Powerpuff Girls?!“

Blossom huffed, crossing her arms as she looked at him angrily.

“That’s something I’d like to know, too.”

Her angry expression faltered as her gaze traveled to her desk. She sighed, beginning to organize her unorganized mess of papers and binders as she spoke.

“And as much as I’d like to know, I really can’t be bothered right now. I’ve got a lot of work to do.”

“A lot of work is  _right_.” He motioned towards the disorganization swallowing up her desk. “What is with this mess you have here? I thought you were supposed to be, you know, the  _neat_  one?”

“I'm– look, I’m in the middle of trying to clean everything up,” she replied, moving things around at a rapid rate. “I’m not always this–”

A stack of papers and folders that could’ve doubled as a replica of the Leaning Tower of Pisa began to fall as she gasped and bolted over to it, catching it just as it was about to hit the ground.

“…unorganized.”

She pushed the stack back upright as she brushed a few strands of hair away from her face, letting out a heavy sigh.

“It’s been a rough week. Month. Couple of years. A lot goes on in a city hall. A lot’s going on  _right now_ in this city hall, stuff that requires a lot of dedication and hard work. You wouldn’t know anything about hard work, though. While you’ve been off…  _galavanting_  or whatever the heck is it you’ve been doing all this time, I’ve been here trying to keep this place in working order.”

“Yeah. Sure. Looks like you’ve totally got everything under control.”

She narrowed her eyes at his sarcastic stare.

“If you didn’t come here just to patronize me like the huge jerk you clearly still are,” she hissed, “Then what  _are_  you here for? And tell me quick 'cause you’ve already made me late with everything as it is.”

“Well, thank you very much for listening instead of incessantly chattering away like you always do. You certainly haven’t changed one bit.” He smiled, but his words dripped with sweet sarcasm. “I am here because I–”

And he suddenly paused.

Well, what  _could_  he say? Where could he even begin with why he was back in Townsville and why he was asking for all of his stuff back? Did she even remember why he’d left in the first place? Maybe she’d been too young to comprehend the fact that he’d tried to take over the world in the name of goodness. No, he thought, shaking his head as she tapped her foot impatiently. She had a knack for remembering that kind of thing. Maybe if he just–

“Just give me the short version,” she snapped after his long silence. “I don’t need the usual long-winded Mojo one right now.”

He grumbled.

“…I, uh… I have completed a long sabbatical, and–”

“Long is sort of an understatement, wouldn’t you say?”

“Interrupting people is  _rude_ , wouldn’t  _you_  say?! Anyway,” he angrily continued, “I have discovered that every single solitary item stored in my volcano top observatory has been detained and, as I am to understand it, has been put into some kind of secret storage center. I was instructed by several people to come to you, apparently, in order to retrieve these items. What I would like to know is where that storage center is so I can collect my things and continue my quest for total global domination _ohhhhhhhhhh_  shoot.”

He let out a long, defeated groan as he realized just what he had said to  _who_  he had said it to. Stupid, stupid, totally  _stupid!_

“Get out.”

Blossom turned and began to make her way out into the hall, but Mojo quickly scrambled around to block her path, his hands frantically gesticulating in front of him as he tried to rectify his dumb idiot error.

“Wait, wait, I didn’t mean domination like  _evil_  domination… I meant the, uh, the good kind? Wait, there  _is_ no good kind. Dang, ugh, look, that’s not what I meant, I misspoke, it’s been a long time since I’ve spoken to you, and I–”

“If you just want your everyday personal effects returned to you, I’ll see what I can do. Maybe.” She glared at him. "But I’m  _not_  returning any of your laboratory equipment or any of your gadgets. For all I know this is part of some harebrained twenty year long scheme to destroy my sisters and me.”

“It is not part of any harebrained scheme!” he hissed, stamping his foot on the floor. “And… furthermore, my schemes are not and have never been in  _any_  way harebrained! They are all carefully thought out! They are all scrutinized and thoroughly pre-tested! They–”

“Are one of the reasons why Townsville hasn’t had any noteworthily major reconstruction for two decades,” she bluntly cut him off. “So no. I don’t think giving you access to all of your things is a good idea. And before you try to force your way into there to try to convince  _them_ ,” she added, prodding a finger towards the closed double doors where the Mayor presumably was. “You should know that the answer  _I’m_  giving you is the same answer you’ll get from everyone else.”

He looked from the doorway and back to her.

“…so what are you anyway?”

“Hmm?”

“Here. What is your purpose here, what authority do you even have to tell me any of this?”

She placed her hands on her hips, fuming as she looked up at him.

“First of all, as the leader of the Powerpuff Girls, I have  _every_ authority to–”

“I’m asking,” he groaned, fingers massaging his eyebrow as another ache began to form, “What are you _employed_  here at City Hall for?”

“Oh.”

She crossed her arms, grimacing as she hesitated for a moment.

“I’m… officially the Assistant to the Mayoral Assistant. I take care of everything that she needs to get done. I perform various tasks and duties in order to keep the City of Townsville running. Administrative assignments, housekeeping, providing the Mayoral Assistant with her daily necessities… as well as making sure that any other key decision-making personnel are taken care of.”

Mojo nodded, pressing a crooked finger to his chin.

“Ah. So like an intern.”

“ _Not like an intern_.” Her lips pursed tightly as she glared at him. “At all. Interns don’t hold the same position for five years. Seriously, why does everyone always  _say_  that?”

“Fine, okay.” He made a mental note to “accidentally” call her an intern whenever he got the chance. “Anyway. Who is the Mayoral Assistant?”

Blossom shrugged.

“Same person it’s always been.”

Mojo balked.

“Sara Bellum?”

“Mhm.”

“Seriously? Then who's–”

The nod she gave him was answer enough.

“He isn’t  _dead_  yet?!”

"I’ve got to get these documents signed off.” Her tone was exasperated as she held up the portfolio she’d been clutching onto. "Why don’t you take a seat here and maybe we can reach a compromise on your stuff when I get back?”

“A seat?”

“That’s right.”

He massaged his temples, trying to allay his growing headache.

“Do you understand just how long I’ve been sitting and waiting for people all day?”

“You’ll just have to wait a while longer.”

“No!” He balled up his fists and shook them at her. “I refuse to sit down and I refuse to wait! I’ve been herded through more doors than I’ve ever wanted to be herded through and I am not going to leave you alone until all of my belongings are returned to me!”

Blossom looked him up and down with weary eyes and sighed.

“…why did you have to pick  _now_  to come back?”

“Oh. I’m ~so~ sorry that my personal inconvenience has so thoroughly inconvenienced you. How careless of me! I should have magically known that I would’ve caused you  _so_  much trouble for even the mention of wanting to retrieve all of my belongings!”

As he spoke, she fished out a phone from her dress pocket and began swiping at it with her thumb.

"I have a  _lot_  of meetings I need to get to today. As much as I don’t want to have to add another one to my schedule, let’s set one up for when I’m done with work at 5 o'clock. Maybe there  _is_  some way I can help you get your things back.”

Mojo’s shaking fists stopped dead in mid-air as he stared at her in surprise. She was actually going to help him out after all? His brow arched as he tried to process this sudden change of heart. That was a little bit… suspicious.

“…where did  _this_  attitude suddenly come from?”

“Just be grateful I’m going to help you at all,” she replied, done with whatever she was typing as she pocketed the phone and immediately jabbed her index finger towards him. “But  _you_  need to ditch  _your_ attitude. Maybe this sarcasm thing worked when I was five, but I’m certainly not going to tolerate it now. As a civil servant, I have a duty to help Townsville’s citizens, no matter if they’re my friends  _or_  my enemies. But my duty only stands as long as you treat me with respect and act like an adult, not a petulant baby man.”

He angrily crossed his arms and stuck out his lower lip. So what, she was going to make him wait even longer?

“Alright,  _fine_. Not like I had anything better to do today. You know. Being run out of my home and all.”

“Fine. Now if you’ll excuse me–”

“Where are we to meet for this five o'clock meeting?”

“Oh! I almost forgot… ugh, my brain’s all over the place right now, I– yeah, where  _should_  we meet? Uh…”

She put her hand next to her pocket for a moment, but looked thoughtfully back at him.

“You don’t have a phone, do you?”

“Negative.”

“How do you even get around without one?”

“Oh, I don’t  _know_ ,” he replied sarcastically. “Maybe because unlike the rest of the world I possess a functioning brain that doesn’t require any dependence upon a mindless mobile device?”

“So basically because you don’t have a job and you have no friends.”

He narrowed his eyes and glared at her as she smugly smirked back at him. Oh, that was  _so_  uncalled for.

“It might actually be a good idea for you to explain yourself to my sisters, too… why don’t you just swing by the house? You remember where we live, right?”

“You still… wait, you all still live in the same house? After all these years, none of you have ever left?”

"Gasp! Wow! We do! And did you say  _your_  observatory is still on the same old dumb volcano it’s always been?” she said in faux surprise.

He certainly did not appreciate her patronizing tone, and his expression reflected as much.

Blossom put her hands on her hips as she glared up at him, utterly exasperated of him at this point (although he could certainly say the same about himself concerning her).

“Y’know,  _maybe_  it looks like a lot’s changed since you left, but not much has. And that’s what I’m suspicious about when it comes to you. I know you left due to some… weird decisions that you made… but I want to be able to make sure that my sisters and I are fully disclosed as to your activities during the past few years. And you better have a good explanation as to why you’ve decided to turn up unannounced, 'cause I’m giving you six hours to think one up.“

He held up his hands defensively.

"Look. I can  _assure_  you, I am not here with any evil purposes in mind, as much as you may think I am. The only reason I am here is because I am planning on continuing my plan to take over the world BUT–”

He interjected, raising a finger before she could raise a fist at him.

“I plan to do so only in a peaceful and nonviolent manner. I am fully aware that to you, that may seem like an impossibility, but I must attempt to assure you  _again_ that it is the only reason why I have decided to show my face once more in this town.”

He hoped that sufficiently convinced her, but by the look on her face it seemed like he still had a long ways to go.

“Peacefully?”

“That’s what I said, didn’t I?”

She looked back down at her papers as she grimaced, her eyes darting back and forth in concentration before flitting back up to meet his gaze.

“…five o'clock. Don’t be a  _minute_  late.”

Blossom hesitated for a moment before she reached out towards him, flicking the badge that was still clipped to his tunic. He’d completely forgotten about it, as well as the goofy expression that horrible gum-chewing, glasses wearing woman had caught of him that was printed front and center.

“Nice mug shot, by the way.”

He let out an aggravated grumble in his throat as she breezed past him, running down the hallway as she turned to disappear into another.

But there was something that did sort of bug him as his superheroic foe ran off. It was strange… yet he just couldn’t put his finger on it. And it certainly wasn’t the fact that she had fingers. Something else was off about her.

Hmm. Well. He’d have time to think about it while enduring  _more_  accursed waiting.


	4. Part III - Engage in Honest Dialogue!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mojo goes to his meeting! And he talks to more girls! Nothing bad happens to him at all and his attempts at getting all of his things back are fruitful. I'm sure of it.

...what the _hell_ was he doing back in Townsville?! 

That single, solitary thought stood stubbornly on top of everything else swirling in her busy brain as she scrambled down the hallway, passing along documents as they were rapidly signed and throw back at her. She had to wipe off her clammy hands on her dress, and almost dabbed her sweating forehead with an amendment. What in the _world_ was he doing back in the city after being gone for so long? She thought he was dead! She _presumed_ he was dead. Then again in the back of her mind she knew he was way too conceited to kill himself, let alone let anything kill him.

Okay. No. She shook her head, trying to topple the thought out of her brain. Freaking out was _not_ a constructive response. He was back. So what? It was another thing she'd just have to suck up and deal with. But this was the _worst_ possible time for him to return, she worried as she ran back to her office, proceeding to make the hundreds of phone calls she needed to make while simultaneously penning the hundreds of e-mails she needed to send. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t multitask with the added weight of knowing that Townsville’s most famous supervillain was in the city again (unsupervised, for that matter, a thought which she cringed at), it was just that the added weight of _that_ on top of the stack of everything else she was attempting to balance made it that much more difficult to do so. 

Honestly, why couldn’t he have just _never_ come back, she kept asking herself all through her meeting with Miss Bellum. She struggled to pay attention to what they needed to be planning: the Mayor’s election speech, which venue to have his one-sided electoral debate at, choosing the cutest babies for him to kiss this year… but the fact that that horrible, evil, conniving _jerk_ was out and about doing goodness knows what (allegedly goodness, so he said, but who could know for sure?) while she was working her butt off was going to drive her up the wall!

She continually glanced at her cellphone, hoping to hear the Hotline ringtone suddenly go off. It didn’t matter that the person who would be making the call was sitting in the same building as her. With every minute that passed, she was waiting for _that_ call, when the Mayor would shout into her ear that for the first time in forever, Mojo Jojo was wreaking havoc on the town they’d worked _so_ hard to keep villain-free, as per the _many_ campaign speeches that he’d made over the past few years using the words that _she_ had written, and that maybe her and her sisters could do something about that because the citizens weren’t going to elect a Mayor who couldn’t keep any of his promises. But like they were ever _his_ promises in the first place. She could almost scream knowing that she was the one behind–

Okay. No. Breathe, Blossom, breathe. Inhale. Exhale. Get a hold of yourself.

There was absolutely no reason for her to be stressed. There was _never_ any reason. She needed to get it together and deal with this the way that she had to. The moment that she had a few minutes peace to herself, she texted her sisters to let them know of the guest who’d be coming to their house that afternoon to meet with them. She hoped they’d pay attention to it and not blow her off, or even think that she was joking around about it. Their behavior as of late was… well, it certainly didn’t give her too much confidence. At least she’d had the good sense to bring them into the decision making process at all: as long as all three of them were involved, they could debate the final choice among themselves. Less stress, less mess. And with a team of three against one, a team she could lead, a team that Mojo could divide the blame on if things didn’t go his way, things would be a whole lot more manageable. Right? Oh, please, of course she was right! She was _Blossom_ , for crying out loud! 

...except… well, she wasn’t anymore. Not completely.

Her eyes glanced helplessly at the suffocating sea of paperwork overwhelming her, a familiar emptiness overcoming her entire body as she let out a belabored sigh.

 

* * *

 

The rest of Mojo’s day passed without incident, which was the exact opposite of what he'd actually wanted to have happen. He’d left City Hall in an annoyed tiff and had gone back to the observatory. Really, with barely any money and no means to commit any crimes to _get_ any more, what else was a guy to do? Any ideas to commit _any_ crime sans his equipment were instantly thwarted by the fact that he'd have to deal with the Powerpuff Girls soon. Being caught for petty thievery would certainly stop them from giving any of his things back. What rotten luck! 

Killing the hours leading up to five o'clock proved to be insanely boring. He decided, after unpacking all of his luggage (which had taken him a whopping total of ten minutes), to call the electric company and ask for them to turn his power back on (which took _them_ a whopping hour, the lazy bums). After that, he’d had to spend another half hour trying to reason with the automated security system inside of his house that it was actually _him_ and not some sort of large impostor _pretending_ to be him. He had to admit, he was proud of himself for building such a capable system… before bitterly realizing that this was the _same_ security system that had failed to in stopping the city from taking his belongings.

Access to his electric-powered doorways was now restored, and he was free to gloomily pace through empty rooms and corridors unhindered. Dust covered virtually everything. Tarps galore were laid out (why they were there, he still couldn’t understand; perhaps more teenagers had figured out ways to access the rooms for some sort of strange, unspeakable activities… he would have to thoroughly sterilize the place later). The echo of his footsteps followed him around as the noise reverberated off of the empty walls of the empty observatory. Empty. So empty. Filled with such… nothingness.

Mojo was never exactly the most extroverted of individuals, and he’d never exactly appreciated company (unless he was surrounded by people praising him, or worshiping him, or a combination of the two). In his travels across the globe, he’d relished in the moments where he was finally in solitude, separating himself from bothersome throngs of people. But at least when he’d find solitude in a quiet piazza or an unfrequented garden, there’d at least been a presence of something. Passersby. A smattering of fellow beings also enjoying their own solitary peace. Plants. Squirrels. _Something._ The lack of _anything_ in his observatory was making him feel incredibly lonesome. It was a very strange feeling that hadn’t bothered him before. Why was it bugging him now?

Then he stumbled upon… _it_.

That room.

That room that _no one_ could have confiscated anything from. 

He stood in front of the door, his jaw agape as he looked up. It was a long, slender door made of solid iron, placed square in the middle of one of the hallways, stretching all the way up to the ceiling. Even with his newfound height, it still loomed high over him. A complicated array of keypads, retinal scanners, voice detection devices, and fob readers surrounded the door, promising that absolutely _no one_ but Mojo could even _think_ of gaining access without being lasered to a crisp.

_The Archives._

It was the room where he’d stored every single solitary plan that he had ever come up with under lock and key (and, well, obviously a heck of a lot more than that). And although it looked like quite a complicated room to unlock, most of the devices that _looked_ like they were guarding the door were merely diversions. He chuckled to himself, reveling in his cleverness as he pressed on a small, undecorated area of the wall next to the door. A whirring noise began to emerge from the other side as a small numerical keypad popped out and a voice prompted him to, “Please input access code.”

His face fell.

Uh.

Hmm.

Shoot.

He scratched his head. What _was_ that access code again…?

As his brain wracked to remember what it was, he realized something that was rather important: just why was he trying to open up a whole chock full of _evil_ knowledge for?! Such a room would no longer even be necessary if he was through with his villainous ways, right? Then again, he reasoned, wouldn’t it be prudent of him to regain access in order to _destroy_ them? Better yet, wouldn’t it be a wise move to look through them and see if they held any worthwhile information that could be used for good? Just a little peek wouldn’t–

He shook his head and grimaced, turning away from the door. No. He wasn’t going to make up excuses. He _wouldn’t_ succumb to his evil nature. He would just walk away from the door and forget about the room entirely. Yep. Just stroll away. Nothing to see here. Nothing to care about in _that_ room, of all rooms. No siree.

...although maybe it would be a good idea to work on figuring out the combination just to kill time. He nodded to himself and turned back to the door. Yes. Of course! Killing time was neither morally good nor evil, even if the word “killing” was involved.

Fortunately– yet unfortunately– the security measures he took extra care in setting when he'd created the lock to the room proved to be more than effective in keeping out intruders than he’d thought. By his eighth try to access the door, he was already suffering from his fifteenth laser-induced laceration. In excruciating pain, and with his travel sized tube of bactine now running low, he concluded that the only way to get inside would be to get the rest of his belongings and maybe, perhaps, find the code written down on something. In one of his file cabinets. Or maybe on the magnetic notepad on his refrigerator. Dangit. Mojo resigned himself to laying down in the middle of the observatory, idly counting the number of rivets holding the ceiling together.

Seriously, what a pain! What was the point of coming back to Townsville and trying to take over the world again if he was going to be stopped at every turn no matter what? He was such an idiot to take the advice of that so-called "wise" man. The guy clearly didn't factor in the presence of three super powered girls ruining his chances of domination at every turn!

Well, superpowered _women_ , he figured as he checked his watch for the time. Women he was unfortunate to have to meet soon... and egads! It was already 4:50! He hurried out of the observatory, feeling like a total dope for losing track of time.

Something in the back of his mind was still troubling him about his encounter that morning as he rushed to make the meeting. Whatever it was that had bothered him about Blossom was something he _still_ couldn’t quite figure out. Why was she even working at City Hall anyway? Of course, logically it made sense for the leader of the Powerpuff Girls to be involved in civil government in some form or another, but as a subordinate? For five years? With all of his fellow villains retired, why on Earth would she or her sisters still bother to live in town? Was she still protecting it as a Powerpuff Girl? With all of the connections the girls had made in their short lives while he had still been in the city, logically they would’ve made even more in order to leave the city and pursue other endeavors, just as he had... right? 

He had to admit though, he thought with an exhausted chuckle as he ran down the street, it certainly filled him with a certain sense of giddy schadenfreude to see the celebrated leader of the Powerpuff Girls, someone so focused on success, void of any substantial success, but still. It just didn't make sense.

...what also didn’t make sense was the fact that he was _running_ to this meeting. 

He stopped to a halt, patting at his pockets. Shoot! In his haste he’d forgotten his wallet, which meant that he would be unable to use the bus or hail a cab or participate in any sort of public transport in order to get there faster. This was _really_ infuriating, he thought as he resumed running. If he had all of his things, he could’ve used any one of his Robo Jojos to reliably be at the girls’ house on time. Then again, if he _had_ his Robo Jojos, he wouldn’t even _need_ those pests.

It was fifteen past five by the time he'd made it to the their home, panting and wheezing as he stumbled up to the doorstep. It looked just the same as when he'd last seen it, but then again he was way too exhausted to really notice any changes. Clutching the painful stitch in his side, he rang the doorbell and waited for someone to answer.

The front door opened, and he was greeted with several points of sharp glass aimed directly at his face.

"I'm gonna cut you _and_ your punk ass!" a perky voice screeched.

He shrieked and fell over onto the concrete pathway. His assailant hovered over him, swinging the bottle back and forth in an attempt to brutally slash him. She wasn't doing a very good job at it though, as she only wound up lazily hovering over the threshold of the door.

"You think... you can juss... come back... and y'think you're like... so cool?" she slurred as she waved the bottle around. "You think you're such a bad man? Such a bad, evil, evil monkey man... WELL. Well let me thing you a tell or two, you gross... you gross mess. You... you're gonna get it. I—"

"BUBBLES."

An _incredibly_ harried Blossom rushed from inside and grabbed her sister’s arm, disarming her makeshift glass shank. Mojo breathed in a sigh of relief.

"Back off, Blossom!” Bubbles shouted at her sister, “Do you even KNOW who this is?! He's–"

"I am _so_ sorry Mojo, she heard you were coming and then she..."

Her eyes darted from the broken bottle in her hand, then back to him.

"...she's just _really_ overtired."

"Overtired?” A raspberry noisily emitted from Bubbles’ lips. “Blossom, I'm not sleepy, I'm drunk as fu–"

"Alright, alright, Bubbles, lemme get you some water, that should wake you right up. Maybe a little bit of bread. Maybe a whole loaf?"

Blossom weakly laughed as she began pushing her clearly inebriated sister out of the doorframe. Meanwhile, Bubbles kept her head turned toward Mojo as she followed him with squinted eyes.

" _I know where you live,_ " she hissed.

The two disappeared into the house.

He remained on the ground, frazzled and incredibly confused.

...what... the _heck_ just happened?

He'd never really cared for Bubbles. In fact, he’d _always_ been at least a little… well, he didn’t want to admit, but… “afraid” was a strong word. Unfortunately it was a precise one as well. All three of the Powerpuff Girls could deal him quite a wallop, but despite her sickening sweet personality, he had repeatedly underestimated just how powerful she actually was. This was an odd addition to her unpredictable personality, however. He wondered just why _Bubbles_ of all people was drunk at this time of day. Then again, to her credit, it _was_ after five o’clock. But still. Odd was an understatement.

Standing up and dusting himself off, he cautiously made his way through the open door. Much to his surprise, the inside of the house was almost exactly how he'd remembered it years ago. The furniture, the color of the walls, the carpeting, the plastic potted plants... well, the _everything_ was just as he'd last seen it. You might’ve expected there to at least be _some_ additions to their home, but it looked just as spotless and boring as it ever had.

Treading carefully so as not to be assaulted again, he made his way to the couch in the living room, sitting delicately on it as he surveyed his familiar surroundings. He marveled at the fact that a room could remain untouched by time for so long. And to think, they were all _still_ living there. It was just–

“Who’re you?”

He jumped up from the couch and whipped his head around, finding no one. Who said that?! The sound of a throat clearing guided his gaze downward, and that’s when he noticed it: a huge, bushy, brown-haired head, adorned with an oversized red bow and attached to the teeny, tiny body of a teeny, tiny girl. She was poked out halfway behind the staircase banister across the room as she sat on the last step, regarding him curiously. He might’ve mistaken the little girl for one of the Powerpuffs if it hadn’t been for her beady, dark eyes adorned with long wispy lashes.

In the presence of such a non-threatening and cute little child, he instinctively froze in fear.

"Just who are _you_ supposed to be?" he asked.

"I'm not tellin' until you tell me first."

"Wh- b- _excuse_ me?" He was instantly taken aback. What a smart mouthed little kid! “What kind of a response is that to someone who is asking you who you are?!”

"Well, what if you're a stranger?" she countered, kicking her feet as she talked. “My mom’s always told me never to talk to strangers.”

"How could I be a stranger if I was invited into your home?"

“I didn’t see anyone invite you inside.”

“Your—”

He paused. He actually wasn’t sure _how_ Blossom was related to this little girl. For all he knew, he thought as he looked at the familiar looking bow gracing her head, this could very well be her daughter. That was a weird thought, the Powerpuff Girls actually having _children_. Mojo leaned forward to inspect her as she stayed seated, still kicking her feet as she smiled at him. Even if the girl _was_ hers, they barely looked alike at all. As a matter of fact, the girl didn’t look much like anyone from the Utonium family. The abnormal head size was the only genetic similarity he could detect.

“Your, uh…”

He pointed to her bow. 

“Who’s bow is that you’re wearing?”

“Mine, _duh_ ,” she said, touching a tiny hand to it. “But it used to belong to my aunt.”

Mojo nodded.

“Ah, yes, your aunt, of course! Your aunt Blossom. _That’s_ who let me into your house.”

“Oh, _really_.” This little girl just didn’t want to believe a word he said, did she? “If my aunt really did let you in, what's her favorite color, huh?”

“Pink.” After a brief moment, he mimicked her with a quick, “ _Duh_.”

The girl giggled. Ugh, terrific. If there was one thing he hated, it was the wretched sound of the laughter of little girls.

“So, uh…” he began, hoping to interrupt the terrible noise she was making, “Where is your mother, little girl?”

“My name’s not ‘little girl,’” she said, stifling another giggle. “It’s Millie. My mom's in the kitchen."

"Your mother…” 

Woe to this poor child if her mother was who he deduced it was.

“...Bubbles?" he hesitantly asked.

She shook her head again.

“Nope. That’s my other aunt.”

“Hmm.” He put a finger to his bottom lip in thought. “Well that only leaves–”

“Your worst nightmare, _you_ _creep_!”

He would’ve turned his head towards the kitchen door, but the impact of Buttercup’s painfully bony knuckles smashing into his face generously swung it the other way around for him. His entire body followed as he hurtled towards the far wall, smashing into it with a sickening crack. It was unclear whether the sound came from the drywall or his spine.

"Mom, what’re yo–”

“Millie, you go upstairs to your room _right now_!”

“But Mo–”

“ _Buttercup!_ ”

Mojo slid down the wall in a limp heap as Blossom appeared, stomping furiously towards her sister, who was busy shaking out her punching hand.

“Do you mind telling me what in the world you’re _doing?!_ ”

“He was– but I– what the _heck_ Blossom!” Buttercup hovered over her sister as she yelled. “Mojo frickin’ _Jojo’s_ in our house and you’re not at all freaking out about it?!” 

“Because I was the one _who let him in_ , dummy! Ugh! Figures! I told you before you got home that he’d be coming over, but do you ever pay attention to me?! Hang on..."

Blossom rushed back into the kitchen and returned with a sack of frozen peas. Mojo glared at her as she looked at him unapologetically, holding it out towards him.

“This is all we have, okay?”

“It’s been much too long since I’ve gotten punched in the face by a Powerpuff Girl,’ he groaned as he swiped the bag from her, seething at the sudden cold as he placed it on his sore cheek. "I'd forgotten how much it hurts..."

“Yeah, well, you deserved it,” Buttercup sneered as she massaged her knuckles. “For all I know you could’ve been tryin' to make my kid help you out with one of your stupid evil plans.” 

“If you’re referring to this _Millie,_ ” he said, gesturing to the still seated little girl on the staircase as he stood up, “I was only asking how she was related to you three, but _obviously_ now I have my answer which I have _you_ to thank for.”

“I still think you were up to somethin’.”

“He wasn’t up to _anything_ ,” Blossom groaned, putting her hands on her hips. “He’s only here because he’s going to explain exactly what he’s doing back in town so we can give him permission to get everything that the government detained from his observatory when he left back.”

“Wait wait wait, hold up.” Buttercup held her hands out in front of her, her mouth agape. “The creep came back and he wants to stay in town?! Like permanently?”

“This just _proves_ that you never read my texts.”

“Well one thing’s for sure,” Bubbles said, looking worse for the wear with a bleary expression as she flew into the room from the kitchen, nursing a cup of steaming tea. “He’s caused nothing but trouble so far and he’s barely been here for like, what, two minutes?”

Buttercup crossed her legs and arms as she hovered in midair, glowering at Mojo.

“As usual.”

“Oh, so the individuals _not_ causing trouble are the one who just punched me in the face and the one who decided to try to assault me _with a broken bottle_?!”

“Alright, alright, come on. We’re not here to fight. Let’s discuss this like adults.” Blossom walked in between him and her sisters, her hands outstretched towards either side. Oh, once again, the _leader_ was around to play mediator. Seriously, how full of herself was she? She’d been the one who told him to come here in the first place, and she _hadn’t_ expected her stupid sisters to not immediately accept the fact that he, of all people, had suddenly appeared at their house without warning?

“All Mojo’s going to do is explain why he’s here,” she continued, “And if his reasoning is credible, we can all go about our lives peacefully and I can begin the incredibly not evil government-sanctioned process of getting him all of his stuff back.”

She looked at him expectantly.

“Go ahead.”

Oh, well how _kind_ of her to finally let him speak. Alright. He breathed in a deep lungful of air before going off into his explanation.

“I wished to return to Townsville to begin where I had left off. And before you all begin to inflict more pain upon me, let me reiterate that yes, I _do_ wish to take over Townsville, but not for the reasons you continue to believe despite the fact that I have displayed that I am more than capable of achieving global peace and am _more_ than willing to keep that peace peacefully intact.”

He continued by telling them all about his travels, and how, ever since the day he had left Townsville, had travelled from place to place searching for a cure for his addiction to evildoing. Of course, he kept things as vague as he possibly could, foregoing any information that would have made him look uncreditable or uncool (although this was coming from a guy who was holding a sack of frozen vegetables to his swollen face). The girls, to their credit, attentively listened to everything he had to say.Yet once he’d finished telling them his tales of woe, they were silent.

Then Buttercup let out an obnoxiously loud snort of laughter.

“You think the three of us are gonna believe such a dumb story?”

“What?! How… how is my story dumb?!” he exclaimed. “I have just spilled my guts out to the three of you,” (well, a summarized version, anyway, he mentally commented), “–and am met with this… this sassy indignation!?”

“I believe him!”

The girls turned to look at Millie, who was still seated on the staircase, her eyes peeping out from behind the banister. Mojo raised a hand pointedly toward her.

“See? _She_ believes me!”

“She doesn’t even _know_ you,” Blossom bitterly replied.

“But she’s _clearly_ a perceptive individual with a good judge of character,” he said, regarding Millie with a strained grin. He didn’t exactly like it, but hopefully attempting to get in good graces with the child would sway the other three’s opinion of him. She giggled, hiding her face again as Buttercup’s expression turned sour at his obviously fake display of approval (yikes, had it been _that_ obvious?).

“Oh, you two-faced _slimeball_! Like anyone who actually _knew_ the kind of evil stuff you’ve done would believe a single word that comes out of that trap of yours.”

“I believe him, too.”

Everyone looked in surprise at Bubbles, who was looking down into her teacup.

“I think he’s telling the truth.” She smiled weakly as she turned her hungover eyes up toward him. “I think Mojo really wants to turn a new leaf. He wouldn’t have tried to make the world a better place when he took over the world if he didn’t have _some_ goodness in him. And he wouldn’t have asked for advice if he really didn’t want to be good, and… and I mean, he hasn’t done anything up to now and he hasn’t tried to hurt us. So… he _has_ to be at least a little good. Right, Blossom?”

Well, if anyone were to believe him, it figured that Bubbles in all of her sickening empathy would. Blossom, on the other hand, seemed unswayed by her words.

“...but even if he has a little bit of goodness, it isn’t enough. He still has a proclivity towards evil. All he was told was that coming back here _might_ help him fix whatever it is that’s still causing him to want to do bad.”

“So you’re completely fine with not even giving me a _chance_?” he asked incredulously.

“I’m sympathetic to your situation, Mojo,” she replied, arms crossing even closer to herself, “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have asked you to come here for a second opinion. But I honestly think…”

“You can’t do it,” Buttercup bluntly finished for her. “Every time you try to do _anything,_ you just screw it up.”

“Oh yeah _, right_ ,” he grumbled. “Name _one_ time I’ve screwe–”

The girls’ stares were all the answer he needed. Ugh! They were right. And he absolutely _hated_ when they were right!

“Well… well who says that I don’t have the _potential_ to change, huh?! Curses...” He clenched the bag of peas he was holding and ground his teeth. “You’re denying me all of my belongings merely for the fact that you believe I am lying about my intentions. This is all silly conjecture! Baseless discrimination! I mean, how ridiculous is it that you are denying me my _couch_ and my _refrigerator_ for such inconsequential reasons!? For cryin’ out loud, I–”

The front door opened and a barrel-chested man walked in, carrying a large cardboard box. 

“Yo, Buttercup, I gotta ton of spark plugs left over from the scrap pile, so I’m figurin’ that I better take ‘em out into the–”

He suddenly stopped talking and froze at the sight of Mojo and the girls.

“...garage… for now...”

“Hi dad!” Millie squeaked, waving emphatically.

“That’s fine Mitch,” Buttercup answered, motioning towards Mojo. ”But we’re kinda in the middle of somethin’ right now.”

Mitch glanced back and forth from the girls to Mojo, then lifted up a hand.

“Ain’t even gonna ask.”

With that, he turned around walked back out, closing the front door behind him.

“...anyway,” Blossom finally said, breaking the silence after an awkward beat, “Look. The fact of the matter is that while there _has_ been evidence that you _could_ have enough of a change of heart to want to make the world a better place, there hasn’t been _enough._ And I mean most of Townsville’s villains don’t even live here anymore, at least the ones who were around when you were still here. Maybe some things are the same,” she said, motioning to the inside of the house, “And maybe things aren’t that much different than you remember, but… this isn’t the same town that you ran away from. And…”

She averted her gaze from him as she turned to look at the girls instead.

“...a permanent stay in Townsville doesn’t seem like it’d be right for you.”

...not _right_ for him?!

 _That_ was it?! _That_ was the result of being laughed at, the result of peacefully attempting to rectify the situation, having to wait _the entire day_ , only for them to come to this ludicrous conclusion?!

Familiar sensations of his body readying itself for an epic tantrum began to boil inside of him as he shook with rage. The heat rising in his face could have almost cooked the bag of peas now unconsciously being forced deep into his cheek as his teeth painfully clenched, veins bulging from his forehead and his fur bristling. He slowly advanced on Blossom, looming over her as she bravely glared up at him.

“You... _wasted_ my time... making me come here for an idiotic _meeting_... just to let me find out that you _won’t_ give me anything back?! I almost ended up getting killed by an unstable _alcoholic_ ,” he hollered, thrusting a hand in the direction of a very embarrassed Bubbles, “Not to mention was assaulted by someone _merely_ because they clearly have some sort of issue with my very _existence_ and think that somehow I’m trying to lure their precious little daughter– who I did not even know _existed_ until right now, I might add– to a life of crime and villainy,” he said, pointing at Buttercup, whose fists clenched tight in fury, “But _you_! YOU! Ooooooohh…”

He sucked in a breath through his teeth as he shook a finger in Blossom’s face.

“You just _looooove_ the fact that you can dictate exactly what everyone can and cannot do, don’t you? Tell me, _Blossom_ , was this entire meeting an outlet for you to indulge in some sort of power trip that you so _desperately_ needed?! Wait, no, no,” he interjected, the finger in her face being replaced by the palm of his hand as he noticed her begin to protest, “Don’t even bother to answer, because by what has transpired during this discussion you and your two inane sisters have been having regarding my fate, I have deduced that that is _indeed_ what has happened here. Your bossiness is sickening! It is _absolutely_ disgusting just what you are capable of doing in order to feel as if you have some sort of _power_ over me. Is this how you treat _all_ of the citizens of Townsville when they need something from you? Oh, no, because you think you help them _so_ much because you’re _so_ perfect and can never do any wrong! But it is crystal clear to me since I’ve been away that none of you have changed a bit from the annoying little brats that you’ve always been. You’ve even managed to become worse! You even still live in the _same_ place you’ve lived in since you were _children!_ Look at you: a homicidal addict, a paranoid mother, and a pretentious has-been, nothing more than a glorified _intern!”_

“ **Hey!** ”

He suddenly stumbled back as a flash of bright green light flew right into his face, along with a very, very, _very_ peeved little girl.

“I thought you said you knew my aunt, you lying liar!” Millie squeaked in anger at him as she floated in front of his face.  
  
“W-well…” He spluttered in shock, marveling at the fact that she had superpowers… _and_ the guts to stand up against him. ”I did! I do! Of _course_ I know her!”

“Then you’d know that it’s mean to yell at someone who’s _sick_!” 

“Sick?”

A look of panic that was suddenly shared by all three sisters surged over Blossom’s face as she immediately grabbed Millie by the waist and pulled her back, slapping a hand over her mouth as the little girl wriggled in muffled protests.

“She’s… she means that I get _real_ sick of people yelling at me like that!”

“But sick would rather imply that you’re unwell, meaning that you were afflicted with some sort of condition. Is that…” 

Despite the pulsating headache that had overcome him as a result of so much yelling, he glanced at her floating sisters and back to her, her feet resting on the floor. His mind wandered to the questions that’d been burning in his brain about what had been bothering him back in City Hall, and he quickly put two and two together.

“...is _that_ why you’re not…”

He trailed off as he noticed her expression turn dangerously dark. She shook her head at him slowly, eyes slowly burning brightly with a look that just _dared_ him to say another word lest he wanted another punch in the face.

“I know you’re incredibly upset about our decision,” she calmly said, even though her expression spoke otherwise, as she let got of Millie, “But there is _no_ reason to throw a tantrum and say those kinds of nasty things, especially when you don’t know anything about what’s happened to us.”

Mojo stared at the girls, all staring angrily back at him. She was right though. He didn't want to admit it, but... well, he really didn't know what had happened to any of them. But still, he thought angrily, that didn't excuse _them_ from their unfair decision making!

“...that’s… I... made a mistake.” He cleared his throat, his head throbbing with pain as he forced the words out of his mouth. “I… should not have yelled. _Or_ … said… whatever it was that I said. And… yes, clearly I forgot about your aunt and her… sickness,” he said, gesturing towards Millie as the little girl crossed her arms, the glare she sported disappearing from her face as she nodded, frowning.

Blossom and Buttercup and Bubbles continued to look at him expectantly as he tried to figure out what to say next. What was there to really say though? They’d made their decision. No amount of apologizing or acting nice to them was going to change their minds at this point, which was still absolutely _infuriating_ to him. But launching into another rant wasn’t going to help either.

There was only one thing to do now.

“...well.”  

He lifted his chin, straightening his posture as he regarded them cooly. 

”…it’s settled then. I’ll show myself out.” 

Mojo began to walk towards the door, but cringed inwardly at the thought of leaving on such a lame-o note. He sure wasn’t going to let _them_ have the last ultimatum.

“ _However,_ know this, girls,” he said, theatrically twirling around, his cape breezing behind him as he pointed towards them. “Especially _you_ , Blossom, and know this well. I want you all to remember how the three of you carelessly turned me away when I was at my lowest, how it was you three who rejected to help me in my time of need, after I was the most honest I had _ever_ been to you! You may not think it, but I _have_ been! When I have finally taken over the world and have molded it into the place that I have always wanted it to be, if _any_ of you _ever_ needs any help in _any_ way, I _will_ reject you as you have just rejected me in my time of ultimate truthfulness!”

He didn’t even bother to see their reaction to this statement as he turned on his heel to the door, opening it up as he triumphantly almost walked into Professor Utonium, who’d almost poked him in the stomach with the key he’d been about to unlock the front door with.

“...oh! Uh… hi there… Mojo…”

The greying Professor gave him a little wave as he smiled weakly. Mojo noticed the cane that he shakily held in his other hand, and would’ve asked him just what the deal was with that if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with getting the heck out of his horrible house and away from his horrible children.

Mojo snootily lifted up his head and regarded the man with a uninterested sniff.

“I was _just_ leaving,” he simply stated.

“Um. Well, sorry to, um… see you go off in such a hurry, but, um, hmm…”

The Professor meekly raised a hand to point at Mojo’s face.

“You, uh… seem to... have our peas.”

He blinked, and realized that he _was_ still clenching the bag that Blossom had given to him. 

Things were _just_ not going his way today. Nope. Not at all.

Turning right back around into the living room, he walked over to her, held out the bag by its corner, and dropped it with a wet smack into her hands, flicking off the condensation from his fingers in disgust. Without another word, he turned and stomped right back out the door, narrowly missing the Professor as the man hobbled out of his path.

The sun was setting below the buildings of Townsville as he made his way down the sidewalk, his hands straight at his sides as he grumbled to himself. Oh, they were _definitely_ going to pay for what they’d done. Honestly, what had he been _thinking_?! That for once when dealing with The Powerpuff Girls, something would go his way?! Nothing had changed about them! Absolutely _nothing!_ Well, they were going to learn once and for all the lesson that they should have learned years ago. From now on, he would place his fate solely in his _own_ hands.

…right along with _their_ fate as well.


End file.
